Assault on Castle Felor
by JimdeGriz
Summary: Dispatched on the King's orders, Captain Rebecca de Aquila's 17th Commando investigate disturbing rumors originating from Castle Felor.


Sheltering behind a stone wall, Lieutenant Malcom Delaself raised himself up to study Castle Felor for the fourth time since the advance party had scaled the wall. An evening mist had descended on the valley, but he was close enough to make out the bulk of the building if not the details. Not really a castle, he thought to himself as he fiddled with his buckler's strap, more a fortified manor house, only the one tower on the curtain wall, while the great hall itself was barely fortified, the defences, a deterrent against raiders rather than protection against an army. Probable garrison, ten at most, under normal conditions. Malcom grinned nervously; firstly the Commando he was part of numbered a mere seven and secondly, if the situation was normal he would be warm in bed right about now, not shivering in a ditch.

"It's been less than ten minutes…keep your head down." Juliana Fletcher whispered up at him. Spying through a gap in the wall, she had been still for so long Malcom had almost forgotten she was there. "You'll give us away."

Like the rest of the party, Malcom had blackened his helmet and breastplate but he complied none the less. After all there wasn't much point bringing a scout along if you didn't listen to her advice. Still the Castle, so silent and lifeless beyond a handful of sentries on the walls, was beginning to get to him. Malcom wasn't worried about it coming down to a fight; he'd served two years in the Royal Army and this was his third mission as a 'King's Wanderer'. But, the rumours that had drawn them here, strange goings on, disappearances, grisly murders; this was starting to sound less like one of those glorious adventures retold endlessly over a flagon of ale and more like those stories told only in hushed whispers by candlelight. That an agent of the King had recently returned from a visit to Sir Felor and spoken of the estate in glowing terms only made things more suspicious, the King selected his agents for their ability to find fault in the Gods themselves.

"Signal on the wall." Juliana broke his chain of thought. "We're in."

Malcom strained his eyes looking into the darkness. He couldn't see anything, but trusted Juliana's eye sight. The company rumour was that her keen senses meant she had elven blood in her veins, but he knew better than to repeat it to her, some enmities burned deep. "Ok move up, Frederick stay close."

Frederick Glazer, or to give him his full title, Knight-Mage Frederick Glazer had been meditating with his back to the wall. His eyes snapped open as Malcom put a hand on his shoulder. He nodded his readiness and followed Malcom towards the castle. Juliana was already across the dry moat, holding a rope ladder descending from the battlements. Malcom hesitated a few moments before crossing on the fascine bridge left for their use. Grabbing hold of the rope ladder, he climbed swiftly with practiced ease, dropping himself over the battlements next to a figure garbed in greys and browns. The two allies nodded a greeting then took up cover positions as their compatriots climbed. Malcom drew his short bow from its sheath. A 'Vang' Recurve, its short length hid its power. Notching an arrow he surveyed the scene, no lights, no alarm. It appeared the first part of the plan had gone off without a hitch.

Frederick crested the wall, followed shortly by Juliana who quickly rolled the ladder up behind them. The figure put his finger on his lips and gestured towards the watch tower. Harold Machin always caught Malcom off guard. Last night he was singing for his supper in a village inn, all bright colours and spectacle. Tonight he was sneaking into a castle, all muted colours and subtlety.

Passing the unconscious body of the wall sentry, laid low by Frederick's magic earlier, the party reunited with the remaining three members of the Commando inside the watch tower.

Captain Rebecca de Aquila knelt over a map of the Castle Grounds she had carved into the wooden floorboards, deep in thought. Charles Epee stood in his customary position; behind her right shoulder while Oliver Crow stood guard on the staircase, his impatience clear to read on his face.

"We know the Lord of the Manor is guilty, we should stride up to his gates and give him the choice, death on our blades or the Executioner's sword."

"The guards confirmed the rumours we have heard." Harold explained. "Visitor's to the vale are invited to the manor, but never seen to leave. Sir Felor himself has hardly been seen for the last three months and the guards swear they have seen a dark figure stalking the battlements." He shrugged. "But they themselves have not been allowed into the manor house itself for some time and have not witnessed any actual wrong doing."

"So in short; enough to suspect, but not enough proof to actually accuse a Knight of the Realm." Malcom summed up. Charles nodded, Oliver looked disgusted.

"I assume the King's Agent was indeed bewitched then?" Malcom asked.

"Gather round" Rebecca spoke firmly, cutting the conversation short. "The situation is this, in order to gain the evidence we need; we will have to infiltrate the main building. There are no known guards inside, so we can assume that we will meet resistance of a super natural nature and that we will have to defeat it with the resources at hand."

She looked round at the apprehensive faces of her assembled Commando.

"Remember we are King's Wanderers, this is what we do. We are the eyes and ears of the King and we deal with the threats the Army cannot. We will enter through the main building through the roof, via the curtain wall." She used her sword to gesture at her map. "That will bring us into the Main Hall and we will reassess the situation from there. Malcom, Juliana lead off."

Bow in hand, with Juliana covering him with her Halberd, Malcom padded along the curtain wall and gained the roof. Slowly he made his way to the trap door that gave access to floors below. Harold grasped the iron ring and carefully opened the door; Malcom and Juliana led the way down the stairs emerging from behind a curtain in the Great Hall on the ground floor. They let their eyes adjust to the gloom.

"Where are the servants?" Juliana asked. She walked over to the fireplace and probed the ashes with her fingers. "There was no fire here today."

Malcom scanned the room, even in the dark it gather the impression of a place long abandoned, cutlery scattered on the floor, benches knocked over and a layer of dust over everything. And the smell, mildew and something else he couldn't quite place.

Rebecca led the rest of the party down the stairs, into the room. "Obvious place to search is the basement. Harold, find me the kitchen."

Nodding Harold led the party across the room, through the neglected linen Screened Passage and out into the corridor. Avoiding the large front door he inspected the small side door next to a covered service hatch and placed his ear to it.

"Someone's on the other side, probably only the one."

At Rebecca's signal, Malcom and Juliana took up position by the door. Drawing his Sabre, Malcom gentle pushed the door open and slipped through the gap. The kitchen was as dark and neglected as the main hall, the smell of decay sharper and more immediate. Next to one of great caldrons, a figure shuffled aimlessly, their head bowed, features hidden from view. Malcom crept forward, barely daring to breath. Moving behind the figure he placed his blade in the small of their back.

"Not a sound."

The figure turned round with a start, head flung back, arms outstretched, reaching for Malcom.

Cursing Malcom stumbled back; a wild slash took a chunk out of the creature's arm but failed to slow its progress. Retrieving his blade he slashed again, more controlled his time, aiming for the neck, but the blade deflected off the shoulder, scoring only a shallow cut to the creature's temple. Unperturbed it continued its advance, clawed hands straining for Malcom's throat.

The tip of Juliana's Halberd slammed into the creature's chest, pushing it back. Withdrawing the weapon she stepped forwards delivering the finishing blow with the Axe Head.

"Thank you." Malcom said his heart racing.

Juliana nodded, she stood facing the pantry door, Halberd held ready.

"More are coming" she stated simply as the others filed into the room. Regaining his composure Malcom sheathed his sabre and notched an arrow on his bow.

"Report." Rebecca ordered, drawing her sword. The moans of the approaching host could be heard clearer now.

"One Undead encountered and destroyed, more on the way." Malcom stated with a calmness he hardly felt.

"Definitely Necromancy." Frederick was crouching over the creature's body. "Where there is one there will be more."

"Then give us some light to fight by. Malcom, Juliana take the right. Charles, Oliver on me. Frederick, Harold watch the rear."

"About time." Oliver declared unsheathing his Battle-axe and slamming it against his shield with a crash. "Sirius witness your servant!"

Juliana shared a glance with Malcom, rolling her eyes, but said nothing. As much of a liability as Oliver could be, the Priest of Sirius, 'God of Warriors', inevitable lived up to his boasts. She lent her Halberd against the cold fireplace and notched her crossbow.

The Party took up their positions. Frederick held a small stone aloft and spoke softly under his breath. The stone began to glow, bathing the room in light, but casting strange shadows that seemed to shift and move of their own accord.

Juliana scored first blood. The first of the creatures had barely cleared the door when a bolt took it in the forehead, dropping it on the spot. Malcom struck next and then again as Juliana reloaded. But the enemy kept shambling forward, spreading out into the kitchen as they did so.

"Keep them contained. Follow me!" Rebecca led the charge, Arming Sword slashing left and right. Charles stood by her right. Each measured strike from his Bastard Sword dropping another enemy. To her left Oliver laughed with delight as he allowed another of the creatures to hammer on his shield before slashing the creatures arm off and then decapitating it with the return swing.

Malcom had discarded his bow and charged into the fray before his mind had really registered the order. Uncounted generations of noble blood demanded no less. Shouting a battle cry his first cut stuck true and he quickly settled into a rhythm. The enemy was tough and unearthly strong, his left arm was numb from taking blows on his buckler, but they were also slow and predictable. With Juliana on his right and Charles on his left the foe had no way to envelop them and were forced to face them one at a time, an unequal battle, if not for the disparity of numbers.

Sweat dripped down Malcom's face, six of the foe lay at his feet already, but more were coming. Another of the creatures lunged forward. He swayed backwards, letting the creature claw at empty air before stepping back in, thrusting the point of his Sabre through its open mouth. Wrenching the blade clear he tried to catch his breath before the next of the creature's reached him. This time his reactions were slow, the creature caught his left arm in a grip of iron dragging him forward. Raising its other arm, it struck Malcom's helmet forcing him, head ringing, onto one knee. Again it raised its arm to strike the finishing blow. Gritting his teeth, Malcom slashed upwards, striking the underside of the creature's upper arm, not hard enough to sever it, but enough to smash the bone robbing its strike of power. Accepting the next blow he waited his moment, surging to his feet to deliver the final blow, neatly decapitating his foe.

Charles and Juliana pushed forward to cover him.

"Take a moment." Charles ducked down to slice the leg from his assailant, then smoothly rose to his feet to finish the creature with the point. "We've got this."

Malcom's head was ringing, but the taste of his own blood was in his mouth and his temper flared. "Not a chance!" he threw himself forward, swinging his blade double handed with strength born of adrenaline and anger.

Slowly the numbers of the enemy thinned until the last handfuls were cut down by the party's blades. Oliver let loose a cry of victory, pounding his blood stained axe into his shield. Despite a half dozen cuts to his arms and even a sizable dent to his breastplate he looked delighted.

Rebecca raised her eye brows at him questioningly.

"They already know we are here. Now they know to fear us!" Oliver declared, earning a slight smile and muted chuckle from Charles of all people.

Rebecca looked for a moment to respond before bursting out laughing. "A fair point I'll concede. Malcom are you fit to continue?"

He nodded his readiness.

"Into the pantry, then the cellar and hopefully our enemy's lair. Frederick any input."

Frederick crossed his arms and looked at the floor. "I can sense something beyond Necromancy, feels like Conjuration. We should expect to engage creatures from beyond his world and their Summoner. We are ill equipped to do the former; the later depends upon the Mage in question. We won't know until we press on."

"Might be worth withdrawing and making our report." Charles suggested as he cleaned his sword on a table cloth. His voice carried the self assurance of a soldier with over a decade of experience. "That is after all our mission."

"You can't be serious." Oliver replied. "The enemy is before us, his first line of defence is breached and you would withdraw without a fight!"

"We are the eyes are ears of the King first and foremost. If our enemy has enslaved but one devil down there we will all die and no one will be the wiser." Charles responded matter of factly, calmly refusing to rise to the challenge in Oliver's tone. "We're no use to anyone dead."

"A scout Captain!" Malcom interrupted. "I'll scout ahead, if the opposition is too great we can withdraw and make a full report.

"And if they catch you?" Rebecca asked.

"Then my death will be your warning and you can make your report."

Rebecca nodded. "Let it be done, good luck."

With a put upon sigh Juliana made to follow.

"It only needs one of us." Malcom protested.

"Not having it on my record that my officer got himself killed on my watch" She made a mocking salute.

"I'd better go to." Said Frederick. "Malcom may not recognise the importance of what he sees. Err what I mean Sir is that my expertise might be of help."

The tension broke and Malcom laughed. He might well be walking to his death but his friends would have his back as always. He squared his shoulders and drew his sabre.

"Let us go then, least we spend so long talking about it that our enemy dies of old age." And with that he passed through the doorway and down the stairs. He companions smirked at the weak jest until they too passed into the spiral staircase. From there it was serious, they walked into the unknown and death might be a step in front of them.

The creatures would have set off any mechanical traps. Malcom reasoned as he gingerly crept downwards. And I won't see a magical one even after it hits me. A comforting thought. It would have been pitch dark had it not been for Frederick's stone. Yet that glow worked both ways announcing their presences as surely as Oliver's battle cry. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he peered into the first store room through the smashed door. Fortune favoured them, bar the smashed and strewn wreckage of the room's normal contents, the room was deserted. A solitary door led to the next chamber, flickering torch light visible under it.

Malcom led his companions forward and placed his ear against the door. He could hear someone talking, but not in a language he understood. Meanwhile Juliana had drilled a small spy hole with a long narrow dagger. She stood back and offered it to Frederick. Frederick spoke words of power, his iris' turning a ghostly silver colour.

"One mage, holding a dagger and standing over an alter…" he trailed off eyes widening. "One devil, ogre sized." He breathed a sigh of relief. "Within a summoning circle."

"Why is that important?" Malcom asked.

"Because as long as the runes are intact it cannot cross them or attack us."

"Anything else?"

Frederick turned back to the spy hole. "No sign of magical traps or invisible creatures. Oh hang on, there's a Guardian Construct…armoured skeleton…great sword and…" He cursed in Ancient Darieuim. "We've been spotted."

Frederick scrambled back just in time as the door exploded outwards, the skeleton clad in a bronze breast plate and helmet strode through ruins. One and a half times the size of a man, with unholy fire burning in its eyes it bore down on Frederick.

"Get the others!" Malcom threw himself between the combatants hastily parrying a blow from the skeleton's sword. "Quickly!" he added as he narrowly sidestepped a sweeping blow, his riposte glancing harmlessly from magically strengthened bone.

"I'm with you." Juliana shouted, delivering a heavy blow to the skeleton's back, the Halberd blade glancing off its shoulder armour harmlessly.

Malcom didn't have time to see if Frederick had followed his orders. He barely had time to breath; the skeleton was deceptively quick and with its superior reach it was easily preventing either Juliana or himself from getting close enough to strike a blow hard enough to piece its armour. He leapt back again, barely avoiding the flashing blade this time; he daren't take the blow on his buckler much less his armour. Belatedly he realised he was being pushed into the corner. Pushing forward he tried to counter attack but his blow was wasted against the apparently unbreakable leg bones. Malcom was forced to parry the next blow, the sweeping sword sending his sabre flying from his hand and nearly decapitating him. In desperation Juliana used the spike on the back of her halberd, hooking it into the skeletons breast plate, pulling it off balance.

The foe barely stumbled, but it brought Malcom enough time to throw himself clear and retrieve his sword. This was back to square one though, worse he and Juliana were tiring, a skeleton, long past concerns of the flesh, would not be. Using both hands Malcom parried the next blow high, opening a gap for Juliana to attack. Her left foot forward and with her whole body weight behind the point of her halberd she thrust forwards, striking the centre of the skeleton's chest. The armour bent and then to Malcom's delight it broke, the spear tip on the end of the Halberd penetrating clean through. Malcom whopped in delight, but prematurely as the skeleton counter attacked with unreduced vigour forcing them back once again.

Malcom gave ground, but too slowly. He cried out in pain as the flashing blade cut clean through his buckler biting into the arm beneath. Juliana tried to intervene, but a reverse sweep of the blade forced her back in turn, a bleeding cut opened up on her thigh. Malcom took the next blow on his blade, the impact throwing him backwards, his vision blurring as his head struck the wall behind. Juliana continued the fight alone, fighting defensively, keeping her weight off her injured leg. She was holding the creature for now, but each parry was coming later and every blow was coming closer to its mark. Malcom tried to rise to her aid, but his legs would not obey and he remained slumped against the wall bleeding.

"17th with me!" Rebecca didn't hesitate as she passed through the broken doorway, charging forwards, shield first, she threw her whole bodyweight into the skeleton, staggering it as her Arming Sword sought an opening in its armour. Charles was right behind her, he parried the skeleton's counter stroke, skilfully using the monster's own strength against it; deflect the blow away and into the floor. The two fighters circled the skeleton, working together with practiced grace to keep its attention divided and create openings for each other, Rebecca's sword probing for weak spots while Charles' heavier blade slammed into the creature's body.

Oliver stopped as he reached the bottom of the stairs. His heart ached to join the battle and rush to his friend's aid, but his training as a Priest told him this foe would require more than mere steel if it was to be vanquished. He touched his axe to the Sirius' Symbol etched into his armour.

"Lord of War, First Sword of the Heaven's hear you servant and lend him your strength in this fight!"

He felt divine strength fill his body and his Battle Axe took on a subtle shine. Roaring a battle cry he threw himself into the fray. His first blow took the skeleton in the chest, opening a massive gash in the already weakened breast plate, pulverising several of the ribs behind. His next smashed a knee joint, causing the skeleton to stumble. The creature tried to counter but the combined efforts of Rebecca and Charles kept it at bay as Oliver stepped forward to deliver the final blow, splitting the skeletons helmet and skull together in a single mighty blow. With that, the skeleton collapsed, its bones turning to dust, leaving just the rent and ruined armour behind.

The party's celebrations were cut short by Juliana. Still bleeding heavily from her thigh, along with a number of more minor cuts, she pointed through the doorway to the next chamber. "The Mage." She managed between gritted teeth.

Rebecca led those of the party still standing into the vaulted chamber, mentally geared up to fight, only to be greeted by the cheery gin of Harold. Hidden from sight by one of Frederick's spells and using the sounds of battle as a distraction, he had snuck up behind the Mage and now held a long knife to his throat. "Figured you might like to talk to this one. He was slippery but I got him to the bank." He joked. The mage showed little reaction, carefully examining the party with wary eyes.

The party regrouped as Harold securely bound their prisoner. Malcom, heavily concussed even after the healing effect of Oliver's magic, lent heavily on Juliana's shoulder for support. Compared to the room before and the neglected floor above, this chamber had been carefully cleared out with runes and candles placed with mathematical precision. The devil remained impassive within the summoning circle, watching everything but saying nothing. With Frederick's assistance Rebecca was trying to question the Mage, but was making no headway. Harold had identified him as Reginald, the Household Steward, but he would offer neither motive nor explanation for his actions.

"This is a waste of time." An exasperated Oliver declared.

"I agree." The Mage finally spoke. "Your bumbling interruption is of little consequence and has taken my attention for longer than I should have allowed."

"Allow nothing, we've stopped your plans and you'll face justice for your…" Rebecca began to retort. But the Mage suddenly convulsed and collapsed. Gerald started forward but Frederick stopped him.

"Wait, don't touch him?"

As the others looked on questioningly Frederick carefully used a piece of wood to slide a Medallion out from within the Mage's robes.

"It's Ancient Darieum, nasty little things, a handful of these have surfaced lately. It allows a Mage total control over another being at great range. One touch is enough and the controller can kill the subject with a thought."

"So the Steward was another victim, not the villain?" Harold asked.

"Very likely." Frederick responded as he carefully manoeuvred the Medallion into a leather pouch. "Further killing the Steward removed our best line of investigation. Maybe when I deliver this back to the Glass Tower someone will be able to trace it back, but." He shook his head. "I gather that even her Worship Emerald, has not managed to crack these devices' mysteries."

"We could always ask him." Malcom gestured weakly towards the Devil. The Devil raised a fiery eyebrow, its whip like tail moved from side to side.

"Trust not the creatures of the dark, for they are Caligula's own." Oliver quoted.

"We could." Frederick replied. "But he's under no compulsion to answer, much less truthfully. We didn't summon him and have nothing to offer him we would be willing to part with. He's simply waiting for the summons time to expire and then he will return to the void. But for the circle there would be little to stop him from ending us all right here."

The Devil tipped its head back and roared with laughter. The sound reverberated in the small chamber, dropping dust onto the surprised party.

"So refreshing, a mage who knows his limitations. But wrong in this case." The Devil's voice echoed menacingly. "I have one desire you might grant. I have 'lived' in the Void for three thousand years, free me from this circle, allow me to walk under the Sun for but one day and I swear I shall do harm to no creature or nation. Do that for me and I will answer one question."

"Free a Devil, hardly." Rebecca responded instinctively.

"Wait a moment, err Ma'am. This could be our only way of gathering further information." Frederick explained.

"You cannot be serious!" Oliver interrupted. "This is a Devil, spawn of Caligula, Father of the Night. It cannot be trusted."

"Oh but it can." Frederick slipped into a lecturing tone. "A Devil could not more break his word than you could Oliver. The very magic which gives them form forbids it. If he gives his word no one will be harmed, then he couldn't even harm someone to defend himself."

"Are you suggesting my honour is no different from the magic controlling this…'thing'!" Oliver squared up to the much smaller Frederick, his temper rapidly fraying.

"Enough!" Rebecca stepped between the two. She stared into Oliver's eyes. "Am I your Captain?"

Oliver paused, considering his answer. "Yes"

"Do you trust me?"

Again he paused. "Yes…..without exception."

"Then stand down." She turned back to Frederick. "Are you certain? Because you're about to bet all of our lives and many other lives on this. Are you absolutely certain that your right?"

Now it was Frederick's turn to pause. "Yes…I think so…No I'm completely certain. We have to listen carefully to what is said. But if he swears not to do something, then he cannot do it."

Rebecca considered this for a moment. "Ok, do it." Oliver grunted and moved to the back of the room, obviously unhappy. "Ask him who is responsible for this."

Frederick shook his head. "Too vague, a name might mean nothing to us. We need something more precise."

"What our enemy's goal is?" Juliana suggested.

"No reason he would know." Gerald pointed out. "You summon a Devil to ask it questions or a service. Not to tell it your master plan, or that's what I've heard." he added quickly.

"Just ask it why it was summoned then." Malcom added. "Surely that would get us the most information."

"Needs to be more precise, but that should do." Fredrick said as he considered it. "Yes that will do." He took a deep breath. "Right then." He turned to the creature.

"If I release you from this circle, do you swear to answer one question and to cause no harm to anybody and to return to the Void after one day."

"I do."

"I need you to say it."

"I give my word that should you free me from this circle I will answer you one question. I will dwell on this plane for but one day before returning to my home and in that time I will bring harm to no creature or person."

"Right then." Frederick took another deep breath and with his staff scratched out one of the runes. The candles instantly when out and the Devil reared up to full height, its wings spreading out to fill the room. It took a step forward and smiled as it felt no resistance from the Summoning Circle.

"Ask your question."

Nervously Frederick composed himself. "In as much detail as possible, what service did you preform for the being that summoned you?"

The Devil considered its answer. "I located two lost locations and was casting a spell to locate a third. The first, the location of the Wizard Tower of Melitta. The second the Nikodoron and the third, the Aram."

"And where are they?"

"Now that young mage, would be another question. But you have my thanks." The Devil's form shrank and changed, taking the form of an above average height man wearing hide armour and a wolf pelt. "I will now take my leave." And with that disappeared.

"Well that was useful." Oliver snorted. Rebecca shot him a warning glance.

"Does any of that help?" She asked.

"I don't know where any of them are. I've never heard of the Aram. But Melitta was the Chief Sorceress of Ancient Darieum and the Nikodoron was the legendary armoury of the Elven Nation that was destroyed along with Darieum, 1000 years ago in the War of Succession. If our enemy is search for those locations then they are looking for magic of a nature and power beyond anything the world has seen since the Fall of Darieum." He looked worried. "At least we know what they are looking for. I think we had better report this urgently."

"Agreed." Rebecca looked around. "Malcom, Juliana are you fit to ride?"

"Yes Captain." Malcom replied though his head disagreed with that assessment. Juliana nodded.

"Right, back to camp, grab our kit and mount up. I want to be on the road at day break."

Sheathing her sword Rebecca started towards the staircase.

"Oh and Gerald, release the guards in the Tower. I'm guessing they won't want to be here when the locals get here."


End file.
